Chapter 51 #2
He shakes his head once, disgust etched into every line of his face.
“It wasn’t. It was cowardice.”
No one interrupts him. No one dares.
“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he says, voice rough. “I don’t deserve it. And I won’t insult you by asking for it.”
He straightens then, still not reclaiming authority, just standing in his truth.
“But I need you to hear this—you were never disposable. You were never the problem. And every scar you carry because of us,” his voice breaks again. “That is on my hands.”
The silence stretches.
Lily exhales slowly.
When she finally speaks, her voice is steady, but it’s the kind of steady that comes from holding yourself together with sheer will.
“You didn’t just send me away,” she says. “You erased me.”
Da flinches but he doesn’t try and deny it.
Her voice rises, and there it is—the fire she hid for months coming out. “You thought I was trash. You thought I was complicit because you were too stubborn to see past pieces of paper and listen to me, listen to reason. You didn’t even ask me,” she whispers. “You just… got rid of me.”
“You took my voice. My home. My sense of safety,” she continues, eyes locked on his. “And you made me believe I deserved it. You turned Matt against me—even if you didn’t fully understand what we were to each other—when I needed him most.”
She pauses, swallowing, before delivering her final blow
“I survived,” she says softly. “But I shouldn’t have had to.”
I feel her tremble beside me and I shift closer without touching her, letting her know I’m here.
Da nods, once, slow and devastated.
“You’re right,” he says. “And I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of even standing in the same room as you.”
Lily studies him for a long moment before speaking. “That’s not something you get to decide alone.”
The silence that follows is devastating.
Jonathan finally lifts his head, his eyes wet, and his voice rough. “We failed you.”
Lily blinks, thrown by how quickly he breaks. “Jonathan—”
“No.” He shakes his head, chest heaving. “You’re right. We didn’t ask. We didn’t listen. We reacted out of fear and pride and… and we could have lost you because of it.” He swallows hard. “I’m so sorry, Lily.”
Helen moves to his side, voice trembling. “We both are. There is nothing—nothing—we won’t do to make it right.”
Cora wipes her cheek quickly, like she doesn’t want Lily to see. Owen stays still, absorbing everything. Bren rubs the back of his neck, eyes suspiciously glassy. Da looks like he might punch himself in the face, and I’m done keeping my distance.
In three strides, I'm before Lily, cupping her face between my palms. And finally, those hazel eyes lock on mine, and it feels like the world comes back into focus.
Her voice cracks. “And you—you always said you’d protect me. That you’d never let anyone push me out. But you didn’t stop them.”
I feel the hit like a fist to the ribs.
“I know,” I whisper, stepping closer, every word scraped raw. “And you’re right. I didn’t. I should’ve fought for you. I should’ve stood between you and everyone in this room.” A breath shakes out of me. “I should’ve chosen you. And I didn’t. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”
Her eyes shine—hurt and soft and burning.
“I didn’t need perfection,” she says quietly. “I just needed someone to believe me.”
I swallow hard. “Then let me earn it now. Let me be that someone.”
She holds my gaze—long, searching, breaking me open from the inside out.
And for the first time since she walked through the door, her shoulders lower. Just slightly, but it’s enough.
“Alright,” she whispers.
Relief floods me so fast I almost stagger.
“Alright,” she repeats, turning to the room. “We can fix this. But it starts with telling the truth. All of it.”
Jonathan nods, standing tall again. “Then let’s sit. We’ve got a lot to put right.”
Lily steps forward.
And for the first time in months, we face it as a family.
“…and that’s everything I know,” Lily finishes, voice steady but tired, fingers curled around the mug Helen forced into her hands twenty minutes ago.
The room is thick with tension. Da sits at one end of the L-shaped sofa, arms crossed.
Bren perches on the arm beside him, restless and fidgeting.
Jonathan leans forward, absorbing every word as if it’s fuel.
Owen is silent and unreadable in the armchair opposite.
Helen sits close enough to touch Lily but keeps just enough distance to give her space.
Cora watches, half proud, half heartbroken.
It’s been an hour of the truth poured raw.
No shouting or accusations.
Just the slow unravelling of months of damage, of missing information from both sides. Of laying everything out there between us and hoping it’s enough to let us move forward as one.
“If I’m going to stay… come home… there’s something you should know.”
Lily’s voice is steady, but I can see the small tremor in her fingers where they twist around each other. Everyone in this room loves her, and yet, not one of them has any idea what she’s about to drop on them.
She glances at me, and I nod, giving her the smallest, simplest support I can. I’ve got you. Always.
Before she can continue, Bren tips his head back, a soft, humourless laugh tugging at the edges of his mouth.
“Oh, is this you coming clean?” he drawls, faint smirk in place as he pushes his glasses up. “Because the secrets out.”
Lily raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting. “It is?”
Jonathan clears his throat, softer this time. “Matt told us when you were missing.”
“He even punched Ciaran here to hammer home his point that nothing was keeping him away from you. Wish I had been there to see it,” Owen adds, smug in a way that makes me grin.
Lily blinks, and a laugh slips out before she can stop it. “Wait… that’s what you thought I was going to say?”
“Uh…” Cora starts, face twisting in a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Well… I mean—yeah? You set this up so dramatically.”
Her laughter grows, light and teasing, and it softens the tension in the room like sunlight through smoke. “Nope. Not about Matt at all.” She leans back, hands painting the air. “I’m a camgirl.”
Jonathan makes a sound like someone punched the air out of him as Helen presses a hand to her mouth.
Da’s eyes widen in pure, unfiltered panic.
Bren just mutters, “Christ above,” like he’s praying and swearing at once.
Owen’s brows knit, not judgmental, just calculating how he never seen this one coming.
Cora squeezes Lily’s arm, jaw set in fierce, unwavering support.
And then I speak, because goddamn, I’m proud of her.
“She’s a camgirl,” I say, shifting close to her side. “And she’s fucking incredible at it. Almost as good as she is at designing clothes. She’s safe, she’s in control. She built a life for herself. You don’t get to judge her for surviving.”
Da rubs a hand down his face. “It’s not that we’re judging… it’s just—Jesus, you could’ve been hurt.”
“I was already hurt,” she fires back. “By all of you.”
Jonathan exhales slowly, like he’s letting years of stubbornness and fear burn out of him.
“I don’t understand the… world of it,” he admits quietly.
“But you’re right. You don’t need our permission to live your life.
And you certainly don’t need our judgment.
As long as your safe, I can’t see the harm in it. ”
Bren shrugs, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Honestly? I’m just impressed you made money off it. Good for you.”
Da groans. “Jesus Christ, Bren.”
“What? It’s a skill.”
Owen cracks the faintest smile. “She’s an adult, Ciaran. And she’s right—she survived because she had to. That’s all there is to it.”
Helen reaches out, brushing Lily’s arm gently. “You are not less in my eyes. You never were.”
Lily swallows hard, letting their words settle like balm.
And me? I can’t take my eyes off her. She survived hell. She built a life from nothing but grit, ingenuity, and sheer will. She clawed her way through betrayal, isolation, fear, and somehow came out stronger. Fiercer, and yet still soft in the places that matter.
Anyone with something to say about that can deal with me.
Jonathan clears his throat. “Right. If we’re done collectively panicking about Lily’s sex life—”
“We’re not discussing that,” I cut in immediately.
Lily flushes, shaking her head quickly, but laughing softly. “Please… can we not.”
The room relaxes just a fraction, laughter fading into easy exhalations. The tension lingers like smoke, but for the first time, it feels like relief instead of dread.
Da, with that familiar mix of curiosity and exasperation, clears his throat. “Alright,” he starts, voice deceptively casual, “how did you two become… a thing without anyone knowing?”
I glance at Lily, a small smirk tugging at my lips. She raises an eyebrow, that same infuriating way she always does when I look like I might be about to crack a joke.
“Define a thing?” I counter lightly, letting my grin widen.
Da rolls his eyes, sighing like I’m torturing him. “You know what I mean. How long have you been together?”
Lily laughs softly, low and warm beside me.
Her hand finds mine again, fingers intertwining like they’ve done a thousand times before.
“Four years,” she says, voice quiet but clear.
“Well three, if you take away this past year. And we’re done hiding.
No secrets, no more marriage contracts. That’s not up for debate. ”
“Well, I don’t think we need to worry about that marriage contract anymore.” Da snorts, shaking his head.
“Mate, you were always shit at hiding,” Owen mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you ask me, the only reason no one noticed was that mess of a ring.”
Jonathan lets a small, fond smile tug at the corner of his mouth. The room, for once, feels lighter, warmer, less like the storm we’ve been weathering for so long.